A Twist In Time
by ragtag writer
Summary: Tired of living in a life full of burdens, Lizzy Bennet makes a wish. She certainly did not expect what happened next. (TimeTravel!AU, Modern Lizzy in Regency Era.)
1. Prologue

_**Prologue**_

 _April 23, 2018_

Elizabeth Bennet considered herself to be a reasonable, rational person. After all, she _had_ survived eighteen years in the Bennet household; four years in a tiny, cramped university dorm and three years under her obnoxious boss at her company. She had endured a lot, learnt to control a sharp tongue and had taken every single annoying thing that ever happened in her life with a pleasant smile.

But _this_ was stretching it too far.

"Mom!" Lizzy hissed, watching as her mother gulped down yet another glass of cheap wine that the restaurant provided. "I don't need you to set up a blind date or _whatever_ you think this is. Honestly, don't you think I can manage my own life now? I am twenty-five, for God's sake! Stop trying to _meddle._ " Her voice rose with every syllable, but Delaney Bennet paid her no mind.

"Ooh, there he is," she said, her American accent loud and strong in the tiny London restaurant. "Kevin! Kevin, honey, over here!" Lizzy cringed, turning to face the man in question. Her mother was beaming with delight, fingers wiggling in greeting.

The man himself wasn't _that_ bad if Lizzy was honest with herself. Blonde hair, green eyes and a charming smile—he was someone that she could easily see herself with. _If_ it weren't for the fact that her _mother,_ of all people, was setting up a date between the two of them. Honestly, did she look _that_ desperate?

Despite all her misgivings, Lizzy gave 'Kevin' her most winning smile. Delaney twittered about the poor guy for a few moments before announcing that she 'just _had_ to leave for her sister's place.' She swept away, in a flurry of expensive silk and clacking heels. Lizzy breathed a sigh of relief as she saw her mother go. One problem solved, one more to go.

"So," she began, the smile still firmly on her lips. "What would you like to have for lunch? I've heard that the lasagna is delicious here."

* * *

Turned out, Kevin Johnson was an absolute jerk. He was the son of a real estate mogul, set to inherit a large portion of his father's wealth. And he just _couldn't_ shut up about how brilliant he was, how rich he would be and how _fortunate_ Lizzy was to be on a date with him… He was just the kind of person that her mother would deem to be a potential suitor for Lizzy (exactly how Delaney Bennet set up a date between a rich guy like Kevin and herself was still a mystery to her). Now that Jane was off honeymooning with her handsome, dashing, _very_ wealthy husband, her mother focussed all her attention on Lizzy and getting a rich beau for her. Needless to say, Lizzy did not enjoy it.

Eventually, Kevin's rude arrogance and leering stares got the better of her temper and she stood up abruptly, tossed his plate of lasagna all over his expensive dress shirt and made a dramatic exit. Pity. The lasagna _was_ actually very good.

She made her way to a small park and collapsed on a rusty bench. Lizzy was just so _tired_ of all the problems that seemed to be cropping up in her life of late. Her job paid decently, but the boss was domineering, obnoxious and downright horrible. Her father was dying, cancer slowly eating away at him. The medicine was expensive, and seeing her father reduced to such a state took a bigger toll on her heart. Her mum was as oblivious as ever, still acting out the part of a matchmaking mama, throwing and pushing her second daughter at every male with a decent bank balance. She meant well, but Lizzy sometimes wished that she would just _stop._ At least Jane was happy. Lizzy missed her every day, but she was relieved that she didn't have to worry about Jane too.

Lizzy sighed, looking up at the stars which had just begun to peek out as the sun went down. She didn't realise that she'd been out for so long. She saw something streak across the sky, leaving a white trail in its wake. A shooting star.

Suddenly, on an impulse, Lizzy closed her eyes and made a wish. She felt silly doing it, but who knows? There was a tiny one percent chance that it might work. She remembered her father's voice telling seven-year-old Lizzy that if she wished hard enough, it would come true.

So, she wished. She wished that her life was different, better, happier. She wished that she wasn't dragged down by all these problems and demons that seemed to haunt her.

She wished.

* * *

 **Hi! I'm Lynn! I hope you enjoyed the prologue of _A Twist In Time!_**

 **A few things you should know about the story:**

 **1\. In this universe, the book, Pride and Prejudice does not exist. The characters of P &P are real and have existed in the Regency Era. The two Elizabeth Bennets switch lives. I'll be writing the modern Lizzy in the Regency. If you'd like, I'd write a spinoff for Regency Lizzy in the modern era. (Gosh, this is confusing.)**

 **2\. I realise that Lizzy's reasons for wishing for a different life might seem petty and rather... trivial. But don't worry, I've got a _lot_ in store regarding my Lizzy. Just hang in there. ;)**

 **Please leave a review to tell me what you think of this idea and whether I should continue writing it!**

 **~ Lynn**


	2. Chapter One

**_Chapter One_**

 _October 14, 1811_

Lizzy woke up to the noise of someone screaming at the top of their voice. Their voice was suspiciously similar to her own mother's voice but there was something wrong with it…

"Hill! Hill, oh, where did you go? Have you seen Lizzy? She usually returns from her walk before we break our fast, but she is yet to do so! Oh, something must have befallen her. I have warned the girl against tramping about the countryside countless times, but she still insists on vexing me so! Oh, my poor nerves!" Yes, that was her mother's voice. But it was so strange! It sounded so… _English_ , with none of her usual American loudness (though her voice was still plenty loud) and since when did Mom use words like befallen? Who was Hill? And she didn't take a walk in the morning, she went to the gym! The language sounded a lot more formal than she was used to hearing, too. Something was fishy, and Lizzy didn't like it.

"Not to worry, mum. Miss Lizzy is still asleep. Miss Jane reckons that her walk to Meryton yesterday in the wind must've given her a headache. D'you want me to wake her?" Lizzy vaguely registered that this must be the woman that Mom referred to as Hill. But she wasn't quite paying attention to the conversation now because she'd opened her eyes fully and had looked around her room—which seemed like something out of an old novel. There was an old-fashioned four-poster bed, an ancient looking dresser and… what was that visible in the other room? A _chamberpot_? Like the one she had seen in the museum? There were melted candle stubs all around the place and not a sign that electricity had ever been used in this place.

Where _was_ she?

Panicked, Lizzy threw off the covers from her body and made to get out of bed—realising that her beloved pyjamas were gone, and were instead replaced with a flimsy nightgown. This raised her anxiety and she went to check her appearance in the mirror. What was happening? As she stared into the mirror, she could see herself—a frightened woman with brown eyes and brown hair. But there were differences. Maybe it was the nose, or maybe it was the shape of her eyes. It wasn't _her_. It wasn't Elizabeth Alice Bennet's body. She could feel it, she was in someone else's body, somewhere far away from home. No… some other _era_ , long before hers.

Lizzy felt a little faint thinking about it.

Before her thoughts could travel down that lane, she heard someone banging on the door. "Lizzy! Lizzy! Mama wishes that you join us for breakfast and stop being lazy! Lizzy!" The sound of the person's fist against the door was unbearable, so Lizzy went to open it.

Outside, there was a strange young girl of maybe fifteen years. She was pretty, tall and plumpy without being too fat. Her whole demeanour suggested an air of a _devil-may-care_ attitude, which Lizzy didn't particularly like.

And she also resembled Lizzy, quite a lot.

"Wh-who are you?" Lizzy question, dreading the answer.

"Heavens, Lizzy, are you quite alright?" The girl laughed merrily. "You can stop teasing now. You very well know who I am." However, seeing that Lizzy's expression still remained confused and rather panicked, the girl continued, "Lizzy, I am your sister! Lydia Bennet! Did you hurt your head? Have you lost your memories?" She seemed delighted at the idea, rather than being concerned.

Lizzy's mind spun. _Sister?_ She had only one sister, Jane. Who was this Lydia? "N-no, you can't be my sister. I have only one sister, Jane. That's impossible."

The delighted look on 'Lydia's' face finally morphed into a frown. "Lizzy, you have four sisters. Jane, Mary, Kitty and I. A-are you truly ill? Should I call Papa?"

Four sisters! She really was in another place. How did this happen? It was so bizarre and something that everyone thought was impossible. Her mind spun thinking of how, when and why she had ended up in this situation. Her name seemed to be the same, but she was in a different era—that much she could tell. What did this mean? That she could time travel? That she'd somehow switched bodies with this Lizzy Bennet?

Suddenly, she remembered her wish, the one she made in that little park before heading home. How she'd wished for a different life. Oh, no… Such things didn't actually work, did they?

Did they?

As Lizzy stared into Lydia's confused eyes, the implications of her wish came crashing down on her. It had come true. A flippant, frustrated wish had come true, and she was stuck in some kind of historical era, never to return to her home.

And right there, before her newfound sister, on the floor of her new, but ancient-looking home, Elizabeth Bennet dropped into a dead faint.

* * *

For one blissful moment after opening her eyes, Lizzy believed that everything was alright. It was just another weekday, she just had to get through it without raising her boss' ire and try to evade her mother's matchmaking schemes. That's it. She'd be alright.

But then, she noticed the candle burning next to her, the only source of light and she remembered that morning's events.

And she screamed.

"Lizzy!" A soft voice exclaimed. A moment later, she felt a hand on her arm, stroking her soothingly to calm her down. Lizzy calmed down enough to notice that the dampness on her cheeks was probably due to the fact that she had been crying and that the woman seated beside her looked very much like Jane Bennet, save the blonde hair that was up in a bun on her head—her Jane had darker hair. And her eyes—they were blue in the candlelight, while the Jane she remembered had green eyes. Otherwise, the two Janes could have been twins. But she did not care, at this moment, of the differences. All she cared about was the fact that her sister, the only one she had ever known, was there by her side, in some form.

"Jane?" She whispered, unable to believe her eyes. Lizzy had desperately been searching for a semblance of normality, anything, and here she was, Jane, in all her angelic beauty. At least Jane's beauty remained unquestionably constant. Lizzy, knowing that she was in a completely different world knew that it was highly likely that Jane was still unmarried. She felt thankful for that fact.

"Yes, Lizzy, I am Jane. Are you alright?" She asked, gently helping Lizzy lie down again. "You had us all worried. Lydia told us that you didn't remember who she was, and you believed that I was your only sister…" She trailed off, looking troubled. "Did you get hurt, Lizzy? The doctor seems to think that you must have injured your head, because of your memory loss."

"No, Jane. It's… I…" How could she explain this, whatever was happening to her? How could she tell Jane that she was not the Lizzy she remembered, at least not the same Lizzy? She felt a dull throb in her head.

At that moment, Lizzy took a decision. She probably couldn't solve the situation by blabbering things that would seem like nonsense to Jane and the other Bennets. No, what she had to do was utilise what she had wisely, figure out a legitimate solution to this stupid thing (which in all honesty, seemed like something out of a rom-com movie or something) and convince people that no, she wasn't going crazy. For that, she had to adjust to this world… no, _era_.

And she also had to swallow the fact that she would have no electricity or internet. Lizzy groaned inwardly at the thought.

Taking a deep breath to steel herself, Lizzy began, "Yeah, I slipped on my way back home yesterday, fell and hit my head. I thought it was no big deal, so I didn't tell you."

"Hm," Jane hummed, looking at her strangely. "I wish you had told us, Lizzy. It must have been quite a fall, for you are talking in a very strange manner, too!" Lizzy bit her tongue and cursed herself. She'd unknowingly slipped into modern slang and Jane had noticed. She vowed to be more careful in the future.

"Yes, it was rather painful. I'm—I am sorry that I didn't, er… inform you." That was archaic enough, right?

It seemed to satisfy Jane since she shook her head in a fond way and patted Lizzy's cheek. "Get some rest, Lizzy. Doctor Wilkes will visit tomorrow to examine your condition. Mama has asked Hill to send you a tray, so do not fret about joining us for dinner. I will return soon."

With a brilliant smile, Jane made to leave, but Lizzy caught her by the wrist. A question was eating away at her mind—one that Jane might find strange, but Lizzy hoped that she'd disregard it as an anomaly due to her 'memory loss'. "Jane, this might seem strange, but, would you tell me what year we are living in?"

Jane seemed shocked, her mouth forming a perfect 'O' as it fell open in surprise. But she recovered quickly, saying, "It is eighteen hundred and eleven, Lizzy." After a moment's hesitation, she continued, "You will reach the age of one-and-twenty, next April. I shall be two-and-twenty in January. Do you remember that?" Lizzy nodded vigorously, maybe a little too enthusiastically, but Jane seemed convinced. Bidding a soft goodbye, Jane shut the door, leaving Lizzy to her swirling thoughts and emotions.

1811\. More than two hundred years before her time. She was twenty, not twenty-five. And instead of feeling comforted by the fact that she was significantly younger here, Lizzy felt scared. She had travelled back in time, for God's sake! This world seemed like an alien one! And Lizzy had no idea how to go back to where she belonged.

At that moment, Lizzy came to understand what regret truly meant. She regretted that stupid wish. She regretted her resentment, her cowardice that prompted her to make the wish. She regretted _everything_.

* * *

 **Hello, and yes, this quick update schedule will be the norm, because I already have twenty chapters or so written! :D**

 **Thank you for your kind reviews, Guests and Lynned13: your reviews were so quick and they really fuelled me to proofread this chapter and publish it!**

 **Another thing I might've forgotten to mention: Lizzie had only one sister, Jane in her 'modern' avatar.**

 **Sorry for the shortness of this chapter, but it is an exposition so it was bound to be short. The next two are slightly but from chapter five onwards, the word count is almost double of this chapter's count.**

 **Hope you enjoyed it! Please leave a review if you did!**


	3. Chapter Two

**_Chapter Two_**

 _October 15, 1811_

"Lizzy? Are you well enough to join us today? What did Doctor Wilkes say?" Jane Bennet of Year 1811 asked. It was still a bit weird for Elizabeth to think of this Jane as her sister, however much her real sister, and this Jane resembled each other. Instead, she simply referred to her as Jane of 1811. It was easier that way.

She also pondered the fact that there was a striking resemblance between this Lizzy and well, her _own_ features—even though the two Elizabeths were born two centuries apart. This applied to 1811-Jane and millennial-Jane too. There were some fundamental differences between the two, but there was no denying that there was a resemblance between the two Lizzies and the two Janes. (It was a little freaky, thinking about herself inhabiting two different, yet somewhat similar bodies and to think about how, in some convoluted way, had two sisters named Jane, who were very alike. Lizzy tried not to dwell on that aspect too much.)

The only explanation that she could give for this bizarre and seemingly impossible similarities was that the Bennets from the 1800s were her ancestors. By a sleight of hand, the two millennial Bennets resembled their predecessors. However, she still had no explanation for their names. Maybe her father knew of his ancestors and had decided to name his daughters appropriately? She couldn't fathom the reason.

Thinking of her father and mother sent a ripple of pain through her. How were they? Who was taking care of them? Was 1811-Lizzy inhabiting her body? She thought that the chances of a complete switch happening were much more likely. Perhaps… perhaps _this_ world's Lizzy had made a wish too.

However it was, Lizzy hoped that her parents were happy and well. She vowed that she would find some way to reverse this switch and get back to her father and mother. They did not deserve a daughter who abandoned them for such selfish reasons as her own resentment.

"Lizzy, pay attention, will you?" Jane's slightly exasperated voice pierced the air. "Did you hear what I said just now?"

Snapping out of her reverie, Lizzy smiled at her. "Yes, Jane, I did listen to you, but I was too lost in my thoughts to respond. I apologise. Doctor Wilkes said that it was merely a case of dehydration and fatigue caused due to exerting myself. He advised me to rest for a few days, but he also mentioned that I might carry on with basic activities, and perhaps even visit Meryton." Lizzy's 19th-century English was still a bit rusty, but she was managing remarkably well for a person who'd just been transported through time if she did say so herself. In any case, Jane did not seem to be too perturbed by her speech, so Lizzy assumed that she was doing a good job.

"That is excellent! Well, then, do you want any help with your dress? Betty is busy with Lydia and Kitty, so you must make do with me." Lizzie eagerly nodded to show that yes, she did need help with her dress because she didn't want to end up looking like a complete idiot. After getting over her initial shock at the drastic differences between modern outfits and the one she was supposed to wear now, Lizzy managed to wear her dress with good grace. She didn't even complain much when Jane tightened the corset (better known as the torture device for ladies), almost squeezing all the breath out of her lungs. It was a miracle that she was still able to move without looking like some type of bird—that's how tightly the corset was tied around her body.

Finally, after being squeezed, pinched, ribboned and laced far too many times, Lizzy was ready to face the day. She descended the stairs that led to the dining room carefully, praying that she wouldn't tumble down the whole way. For the first time (and probably the last), Lizzy fervently wished that she was in one of the hideous cocktail dresses of her Mom's choice. Anything would be better than this 'day dress'.

Breakfast, thankfully, did not consist of fish eggs or snails, but like yesterday's supper (which she took in bed) had familiar dishes, which rather surprised Lizzy. She didn't know _what_ she had expected—perhaps ostentatious alien food that she'd never eat.

As she quietly sipped her tea, Lizzy scanned the table, looking at the new faces around her. She'd only seen Jane and Lydia Bennet of 1811. What about the rest?

At the head of the table, which was two places up her spot, sat Mr Bennet. He looked like an indolent man, with a bored expression and generous frame. His eyes, however, were sharp and somewhat cold. Lizzy couldn't find anything particularly similar to her own father's features. The only trait they shared seemed to be a love of books, as was evident by the book, The Iliad, which he held in his hand—which served the dual purpose of entertaining him and keeping Mrs Bennet's effusions.

Mrs Bennet sat opposite to him, at the other end of the table, and was a bundle of frills and fripperies. Everything, from her cap, right down to her handkerchief was adorned with… what was that? Lace? Unlike Mr Bennet, there was something very familiar about Mrs Bennet. It wasn't that her mother and Mrs Bennet shared any physical traits—Mom was dark as Mrs Bennet was fair, but it was her general aura of exuberance and the strong impression that Mrs Bennet lived to get her daughters married off to rich young men. This was exactly what had driven Lizzy up the wall when it came to her mother, but she found it oddly comforting here.

But as she listened to Mrs Bennet go on and on about some rubbish called 'being thrown into the hedgerows' and the _gentlemen-who-would-court-Jane_ , Lizzy had to concede that it was still an extremely annoying part of the lady, even if it was a bit comforting.

The third Bennet sister, Mary (if she guessed correctly) sat opposite her, eyeing her mother and the youngest sisters with disapproval written all over her face. Her gown was much more close-necked than the other sisters' and was made from a plain grey fabric. She had spent the entire breakfast in near silence, and when she did speak, it was either to chastise her family or to discuss the piano. _(_ No— _pianoforte,_ Lizzy really must remember all these differences and fluctuations in speech if she were to convince everyone that she didn't belong in the asylum.) Lizzy figured that Mary was obnoxiously pious and preachy. She could bear Mary, as long as her preaching did not turn on her.

Lydia and Kitty, the last two of her newly acquired sisters were exactly what her friends would call _'bimbos'._ Perhaps that was too harsh a word to describe their behaviour, but Lizzy couldn't find anything else in her dictionary to describe them. 'Silly' was too mild a word to describe Lydia and Kitty. They were quite pretty, were complete airheads and Lizzy could bet ten bucks that they were vulgar and flirty. All they talked about was of their apparel, Maria Lucas' bonnet and such other frivolous things. She was pretty sure that the girls had never got a word of proper education and had grown into vulgar, air-headed people who could just be described as bimbos.

She wondered whether they were in school—they did look like they could use a good dose of sensibility and cold hard logic. She doubted it. It was two centuries before her time—wasn't it only in the _twentieth_ century that women began to fight for their rights? That was a hundred years away. This was probably the time when women received little to no education, remained confined in their homes and dedicated themselves to naff household stuff that Lizzy certainly didn't have any interest in.

Lizzy shuddered at the thought that she was actually supposed to act _stupid_ here. She was a qualified journalist, for God's sake! She should have been working hard on her next article, not sitting still and looking pretty in some misogynistic society!

 _Calm down, Lizzy. We've already seen that wishing hard and staring at the ceiling won't do anything to transport you back, last night._ Lizzy sighed as she remembered her futile attempt to return to her time, which had elicited concerned stares from Jane. _All we can do is gather as much information about the situation as possible and work with that information. It's like working on a featured article! You require patience. Don't rush_.

Slowly, the family dispersed from the table to their various tasks. Lizzy was surprised to see that, throughout breakfast, she handled the various cutlery with relative ease, although she herself was quite clueless. Did she retain the skills that old-Lizzy must have learnt over the years? Was it because handling forks and knives and spoons was mostly a motor function, and therefore was solely an aspect of the body, and not of her 'new' mind? It was confusing to Lizzie, but she felt relieved that she could at least do _something_ right in this world.

* * *

After breakfast, Lizzy felt stranded. What was she supposed to do? She sincerely hoped that the _Sit still, look pretty_ joke she'd made derisively within her own mind was just that—a joke. She couldn't bear to do nothing every day.

She wandered the house, hoping to see one of the Bennets… she supposed that she must refer to them as her family, now. Eventually, she caught all of the sisters leaning against a door made of dark wood, listening eagerly to something.

"Lizzy!" The second-youngest sister, Kitty, exclaimed. "Come, Mama is telling Papa about our new neighbours!" Kitty looked far too excited about it, as she dragged Lizzy to the small opening left by the door.

Inside, she could hear Mrs Bennet's voice, loud and excited. She informed Mr Bennet that _'Netherfield Park was let at last!'_ , and then proceeded to relay the whole profile of the man—Bingley was his name, with an estimated income of five thousand pounds per annum (which, to Lizzy's mind, was quite less—she earned four times as much as this Mr Bingley in her world!) and he was single—what a fine thing for our girls! At this, Kitty and Lydia giggled, pushing Jane's arm teasingly, who blushed and shushed them. Mr Bennet seemed indifferent, using a sarcastic tongue to temper Mrs Bennet's excitement.

"I see no occasion for that," Mr Bennet said when Mrs Bennet asked him whether he would visit this Bingley-man. "You and the girls may go, or you may send them by themselves, which perhaps is still better." At this, his voice took on a more teasing tone, "For as you are as handsome as any of them, Mr Bingley might like you best out of the party." Lizzy almost snorted at this but bit her tongue to reign it in.

The rest of the conversation involved Mrs Bennet pleading, persuading, begging and ordering Mr Bennet, who remained steadfastly indifferent.

"Why does Mr Be—Papa need to visit Mr Bingley before Mama and we do?" Lizzy asked Jane in a confused whisper, as they stood by listening to Mrs Bennet's poor nerves. "It is evident that he does not desire to do so. If Mrs Be—Mama is so insistent on us visiting Mr Bingley, we can as well go ourselves!" She hoped that Jane didn't notice her little slips over Papa and Mama. She tried to call them so, but she just _couldn't._ Going by themselves seemed like a simple solution to Lizzy's mind but Jane looked horrified by the mere suggestion.

"Lizzy, I do hope you are teasing! It would be extremely improper to visit Mr Bingley before Papa does. Are you certain that you are well?" Jane eyed her suspiciously and Lizzy bit her tongue, realising that she'd made a blunder.

"Yes, yes it was merely me teasing. You know me. I, _er,_ just felt that it would be much easier if we resolved the issue that way!" And Lizzy gave Jane her most mischievous smile.

Apparently, old-Lizzy and she shared some characteristics, because Jane shook her head gracefully and said, "Oh, Lizzy!"

They chuckled for a bit (Lizzy, very nervously), and made their way upstairs since Jane had suggested that they visit town _(Meryton,_ she had to keep that in mind) to buy some ribbons and such for her new dress. Lizzy steeled herself with a deep breath as she tied the ribbon of her bonnet. This blunder had been relatively easy to avoid, but she knew that every step would be filled with potential blunders here. Still, Lizzy was confident that as she learned more about 1811-Lizzy and her world, she would be able to face it with much more ease. She only hoped that it happened soon.

* * *

 **Hello! Gosh, I was so overwhelmed by the response to this story! I woke up today morning to find out that it had almost a thousand views! Thank you. :)**

 **Fair warning, this is a long A/N!**

 **I'll reply to the reviews given by registered users through PM. I'll answer a few guest reviews-those which contain questions and such. Thank you to all those people who have reviewed, favourited and followed my little tale. It really keeps me motivated to go ahead with writing it!**

 **This chapter might seem a bit slow, but it's necessary since Lizzy is digesting a bucket load of information about the 19th-century world. Tell me your thoughts about it! Did you find it too boring? Don't worry, I have something very different in store for chapter three. ;)**

 **About the whole 'handling cutlery' part. It is only Lizzy's soul that has travelled to the 19th century. Since stuff like posture, etiquette and naff things like that were very important in this age, it's my belief that Lizzy's body will be doing it as something of an acquired reflex. Bewildered Lizzy in a body which knows how to do everything makes it more interesting, don't you think? This doesn't quite apply to dances though since you require a fair bit of concentration for all those complicated steps. So, Lizzy will face the Assembly dance as a clueless person! _That_ will be so much fun. ;)**

 _ **Review Responses:**_

 **mpal - Lizzy knows quite a lot about _her_ world because she has lived in it for 25 years. Her knowledge of the 19th century, though is like that of an average human being - somewhat vague with many misconceptions. She _does_ believe the society to be misogynistic (which is somewhat true, but in some aspects, her prejudiced views will blind her to reality, which is the exact opposite. Seem familiar?). We'll see how she adjusts to the Regency era. One thing's for sure, it's not going to be easy! And oh my, I've never seen a falling star in my life before! That's so wonderful. I live in England too, so I can tell you that was a great wish! Your story makes me believe in the myth. :D**

 **ale - I had to use Google Translate for your review. My knowledge of the Spanish language is only to the extent of saying _Hola_ and such words of greeting, so would you mind terribly if I used English for my response? First off, thank you! I'm glad you find the story interesting! Secondly, no, while my story does contain a fair bit of drama (and a lot of deviations from the original P&P), I shall not be blowing up the drama to the size of a soap opera. And Lizzy/Darcy, according to me, is going to be quite interesting, what with Lizzy being highly educated (maybe even more than Darcy himself!) and her views of the 19th century. Romance is _definitely_ not null in this story, don't worry!**

 **To the four other Guests who left kind and eager comments for the chapters, thank you so very much! I appreciate that you took the time to let me know you enjoyed this story because it motivated me to write chapters 22 and 23!**


	4. Chapter Three

**I have edited this chapter, and added a little more content! It does not affect the plot in any way, though.**

* * *

 ** _Chapter Three_**

 _16 October, 1811_

"Shit!" Lizzy cursed as she accidentally struck her foot against a rock. She was only thankful that no one was around to hear her. Jimmy Lucas, a little boy of around ten years old had used _'Blast!'_ in front of his mother and sisters, and the Bennet women when the former family visited for tea, to the seeming horror of everyone present in the vicinity. Everyone except Lizzy, that is. For one thing, was _blast_ even a proper curse? Lizzy had heard a lot more profanity at college than she had from Jimmy. But Lady Lucas and Mrs Bennet seemed to think that even such a mild curse was a great offence, and had reprimanded the poor boy and sent him to the nursery, pronouncing him 'unfit for polite company'.

Only then did Lizzy begin to understand how important propriety and etiquette was in this world. Mrs Bennet—no, _Mama,_ she had to think of the woman that way _—_ had already told Lizzy off for hitching her skirts too high while she walked. She'd only brought it up her ankles, for God's sake! Was that, in _any_ way, improper? She'd chafed against Mama's nasally voice scolding her, but the latter had already moved on to Kitty, who had been slumping in her fatigue. Slowly, Lizzy began to realise that the 'Sit still, look pretty' part was only a facade. There were far more annoying things hidden underneath the surface.

Lizzy had no idea how she was going to keep up with it.

And that's why she didn't blame 1811-Lizzy for her so-called rambles across the countryside. She had actually been delighted to discover that it was a habit of hers. Mama hated this habit with a passion and had made it clear at supper yesterday. Instead of getting ridiculously irritated as she had been doing the whole day whenever Mama lamented her 'hoydenish ways', she'd discovered a method of escaping this little house full of strange people who were supposed to be her family. She'd thought she could get through this. It would be easy. All she had to do was to curtsy whenever she saw someone else and use posh language that she usually associated with Shakespeare or such authors.

She couldn't have been more wrong.

In one day, Lizzy had made the discovery that while her body retained its poise and other etiquette matters which had become basic reflexes, she, as an individual, couldn't have been less ladylike. She'd tried to follow Jane as she embroidered, but had ended up with botched up stitches. Her quick strides were described by Mama as an 'elephant's gait' and she was ordered to stop immediately. And she couldn't even count the number of times she'd said something wrong or improper throughout the day. She only hoped that no one's suspicions would be raised by her erratic behaviour.

The only respite she'd received from the never-ending cycle of propriety, giggling and trivial gossip (most of which seemed like utter nonsense to her—after all, she didn't know most of these people that Mama and the girls mentioned) was when Papa—Mr Bennet—had intercepted her when she was wandering aimlessly through the narrow halls, in the evening, and said, "Lizzy, I have not seen you in the book-room all day. Well, well, are you _enjoying_ your Mama's fluttering?"

Taking that as an invitation, Lizzy had thankfully slipped into the book-room—which looked like a small public library in its own right. She didn't know many of the titles, but she did have a penchant for Shakespeare. Mr Bennet seemed to be up for a good debate on _Julius Caesar,_ the title that Lizzy had apparently been reading before the switch happened. Lizzy gladly gave in—it was her favourite Shakespearean play. And so, the evening had passed pleasantly. Apparently, 1811-Lizzy wasn't as dull and compliant as she'd originally thought. Old Lizzy was a cut above the rest and she was quite knowledgeable, maybe not as much as modern Lizzy was, but definitely more than her sisters. This made her job a bit easier.

However, her evening of debating on Brutus and Caesar and the plot with Papa was rudely interrupted by the dinner bell. She was brought back to reality with a bang during supper. Mama had screeched throughout the meal, Papa had assumed his mask of indifference again (which rather infuriated Lizzy), while Jane was completely distracted by making sure that the younger girls behaved properly. Lizzy supposed that she should help her elder sister, but all she could do was to remain frozen in her seat and look at the tableau taking place around her.

She had felt as if she was slowly going mad.

So, when she'd risen at dawn the next morning (Old Lizzy's biological clock included waking up annoyingly early), she had fumbled with what she prayed was a morning dress, slipped into the walking boots which nipped at her toes (how was this in _any_ way beneficial for long walks?) and headed out of the house. Lizzy had stared at it for a little while, the small mansion which seemed so alien and new to her. Hell, she'd only learnt its name after supper yesterday, when Mama launched into her rant about the 'Longbourn entail'—whatever that was supposed to mean. How was she supposed to learn twenty years worth of history, memories and acquaintances? What was she supposed to _do_?

Lizzy had turned away, ignoring the tears pricking at her eyes.

Now, she sat on a mossy rock in the woods, nursing her injured toes, the stupid walking boot abandoned on the lush grass. Lizzy wiped her frustrated tears away from her cheeks. _Nothing_ was going right. She might have fooled her family into believing that nothing was wrong with their Lizzy, but what about the others? Miss Lucas certainly seemed suspicious when she didn't address her by her first name. Nor did she like it when Lizzy did not remember Mr Preston's marriage to the erstwhile Miss Goulding.

Indeed, Charlotte Lucas had told her as they parted, "Something is not quite right, Lizzy. You do not remember. It is almost as if… as if you are a different person." Lizzy had paled at that, shook her head vigorously and assured that it was not so. But her words and laugh seemed so fake to her own ears that she doubted that Charlotte was fooled.

How long would it be until everyone began to realise these small inconsistencies, this complete loss of memory? And how many days would pass before Mr and Mrs Bennet abandoned her as a mentally ill woman and admitted her to an asylum?

 _Stop it, Lizzy. You_ _'re being irrational. You_ _will_ _get through this and figure out a way to get back to your family._ She chastised herself. She rubbed her cheeks furiously, hoping that it wasn't too red and blotchy _,_ sniffed for a bit and cradled her head in her hands. She looked at the scene around her and had to admit that it was particularly beautiful. The sky was clear—a rarity in the modern world with the excessive pollution—and the fresh air of the woods seemed cool and fragrant in her nose. It was a beautiful place, one where you could sit for hours and lose yourself in your thoughts.

And that was exactly what Lizzy did. For the first time in two days, she allowed herself to think of her family, living in a time which she would probably never live to see. Of Dad's kind smile and brilliant blue eyes, of Mom's effusions and endless enthusiasm and of Jane's kind smiles and rare smirks—whenever her wicked humour showed itself. She missed them, so much. Lizzy cursed herself for her stupid wish. What were her reasons for wishing for an entire shift in her life? Fatigue, exasperation with her job and her mom's behaviour, heartbreak over her Dad's worsening disease? How cowardly and trivial that seemed now.

But, after a moment's contemplation, Lizzy shook her head. No, her reasons went deeper than that. They were darker, more desperate. But she wasn't willing to admit it. Hell, she hadn't been willing to admit how much _he_ and the events following her relationship with _him_ had affected her, turned her into a cold cynical woman for five years now. However… she realised that subconsciously, she was desperately wishing for a world where _he_ didn't exist.

Scenes flashed past her eyes, screaming, the sound of glass shattering, the sharp smell of blood and dark streets. Lizzy covered her ears with her hands, hoping it would stop, _begging_ it to stop. _Please_ _…_

 _"_ Miss?" A deep baritone voice interrupted Lizzy's steady descent into her personal hell. "Are you alright?"

She looked up, hoping that the pain in her eyes wasn't visible to this stranger. There were two gentlemen, mounted on two large (and rather intimidating) horses. They dismounted, seeing that she wasn't quite in her right mind ( _in more than one way_ , Lizzy thought with bitter amusement) and bowed. Lizzy stood up and returned their greeting with a clumsy courtesy, hoping that the moss hadn't stained her pale yellow gown.

There was silence for a while until Lizzy remembered that one of them had asked her a question. Embarrassed, she said, "Yes, thank you. I—I merely felt unwell for a moment during my walk. Thank you for your concern." Her speech was awkward, but she hoped that it was satisfactory.

Apparently, it was, because the red-haired man— _gentleman—_ answered with a cheerful grin, "Well, we are glad to hear it. I would be quite dismayed to find a lady falling ill within my new property."

"New property? But… this is Long—oh gosh, this is not a part of Longbourn, is it?" Lizzy groaned. She _knew_ that she shouldn't have ignored that half-broken fence. The man with darker hair frowned at her as if trying to figure something out. Lizzy bit her tongue. Had she slipped into modern speech again? Whatever his reason for staring at her, his blue eyes certainly made her nervous.

"Indeed not, madam, but do not distress yourself. You are quite welcome here in Netherfield." It was the redhead who spoke again. Apparently, the dark-haired gentleman's concern did not extend beyond asking if she was well.

"You must be Mr Bingley!" She gasped, realising that this might be considered improper (because, honestly, _everything_ was improper here) and continued, "Sorry, that was quite rude. I'm Elizabeth Bennet… of Longbourn," she added after a pause, remembering how Jane had introduced herself to Mrs Newton, a guest of the Long family they had encountered in Meryton.

"No, no, it did not offend me in the slightest, for I am Mr Charles Bingley. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Bennet." He beamed, and Lizzy couldn't help but smile back. He seemed like a cheerful bloke. "May I introduce you to Mr Darcy, a dear friend of mine." The person in question bowed deeply, prompting Lizzy to offer yet another badly done curtsy to the two men.

"Likewise, Mr Bingley." She bit her lip, shuffling a bit to quell her nerves. "Er, I must head back to Longbourn, for I've been gone too long and my family might worry. I do hope that we might further our… _acquaintance_ on another occasion, Mr Bingley, Mr Darcy." And with a quick smile, Mr Bingley assured her that he would be delighted to do so. Lizzy liked the cheerful man instantly.

His companion, however… Mr Darcy had kept silent through the whole exchange, only frowning at her as she wrung her hands and shifted her weight from one foot to another. He intimidated Lizzy as if his disapproval (because that was the only reason he could be glaring at her like that—because of his disapproval for her… er, _unconventional_ and somewhat unladylike behaviour) increased her nervousness.

Lizzy's anxiety increased as she offered them a final curtsy. What did they think of her? She certainly didn't speak as properly as she should have. Nor were her manners as graceful as Jane's. Oh God, she was going to worry herself into a tizzy over this. As she prepared to leave, Lizzy raised her hand to bid them goodbye, but suddenly realised that it wasn't done here to 'wave her hands frantically' as Mama had put it.

She drew her hand back immediately, looking over her shoulder to see if the gentlemen had noticed. Mr Darcy had, apparently, because he was _still_ watching her. Lizzy smiled at him awkwardly, blushing furiously at her _faux pas._ She hoped he just thought it was a nervous tic or something. Lizzy doubted that her awkward gesture would hold any significance for that silent man. Right?

Lost in her thoughts, Lizzy traced her way back to Longbourn, somewhat relieved that she hadn't slipped entirely into modern language (even though there were some words that she would change if she had the power to do so now) or done something clumsy and ungainly while talking to the first men she'd met outside her family (but that parting half-wave! Lizzy prayed to the gods above that they ignored it). Honestly, after this interaction, all she wanted to do was lock herself up in a room and never come out to this ridiculously 'proper' society.

And to think that it was one of the only conversations she'd held outside the Bennets and the Lucases.

Oh well, this was going to be _quite_ difficult, wasn't it?

Lizzy was so engrossed in her worried thoughts as she made her way through the uneven terrain that she didn't notice the deep blue eyes of a dark-haired man following her as she manoeuvered through the maze of rocks and grass towards Longbourn. She also didn't notice the small, quizzical smile appear on Fitzwilliam Darcy's face because no woman had intrigued him quite so much in such a short encounter, as Elizabeth Bennet.

* * *

 **I'm back! I'm sorry for the late update, but today is rather an important day for me - Easter Sunday _and_ April Fool's Day. You can imagine my son's excitement in the morning, although it was mostly for the latter event. :P So, yes, I was busy and I couldn't upload this.**

 **This is a one-scene chapter, but Lizzy does meet Darcy! I'm sorry if it's anticlimactic, but Darcy is a bit reserved (as we all know) but Lizzy did leave an impression on him.**

 **But if you think that their interaction is going to be as mellow and mild as this throughout the story, boy, are you wrong. ;)**

 **I hope that the small insight into Lizzy's previous life is interesting. There's a lot of depth to my Lizzy, and this is a part of her - an important one. Please comment on your thoughts, speculations or whatever is running through your mind! I absolutely love to hear from you!**

 _ **Review Responses:**_

 **Guest 1 - This is the first review for Ch 3. No, Darcy is not a counterpart for Lizzy's 21st-century boss. He's grumpy, but perhaps not _downright horrible_ like Lizzy's boss, don't you think?**

 **Guest 2 - I hope that snippet about the Lucases and Charlotte showed how her missing memories are affecting Lizzy! Playing the piano will definitely be an ordeal for her (but she hasn't realised it yet!) and singing too, but to a lesser extent, since a trained voice will become an acquired reflex. But for the lyrics, well... ;) About the books, well, since Jane Austen's books (sadly) don't exist in this world, her knowledge would be limited to the Brontes and other contemporary authors. So yes, her knowledge is quite limited. We've seen this through the first few chapters to a far lesser extent, but as we go, her ignorance and prejudice (she calls the society 'misogynistic' after all) will affect her greatly. I'm so glad that you like the story!**

 **Guest 3 - I'm so glad that you like the story! Oh dear, dancing is going to be quite a disaster for our poor Lizzy!**

 **ale - It was no trouble! And I hope that my writing does your interest in the story justice. :)**

 **Guest 4 - Thank you! I hope this update is soon enough for you!**

 **em - Thank you, I'm so glad you enjoyed it! And yes, I'll write a spinoff for Regency Elizabeth in the modern era, since you'd like to read it. :D**

 **~ Lynn**


	5. Chapter Four

**_Chapter Four_**

 _16 October, 1811_

"Jane! Have you seen that necklace with small pearls that you wore to Mrs Long's dinner party?" Lydia's voice permeated through Lizzy and Jane's closed door. Lizzy looked at her elder sister, exasperated by the constant interruptions. Gosh, was _this_ how an evening of preparation went with three extra sisters? She'd gladly trade them for the one sister she had before if this was the level of chaos that she had to bear.

Jane's serene face had taken on a slightly irritated expression too, which, if 1811-Jane was anything like modern-Jane was quite a rarity. Hastily dumping the pile of ribbons on her bed, Jane unlocked the door.

"Yes, Lydia, I do have the pearl necklace. However, Lizzy will be the one wearing it tonight, since her dress matches it very well. You may ask Mama for another accessory." Lizzy had no idea that she'd be wearing it but understood from Jane's firm voice that it was mainly to dissuade Lydia from getting whatever she wanted. That girl needed to learn the meaning of respect and constraint. If it were Lizzy, she'd have complied immediately, but of course, _Lydia_ wouldn't let go of the issue without creating a scene.

After her concern about Lizzy fainting had faded, Lydia's true character had been revealed to Lizzy. She was vapid, vain, selfish and an overall airhead. But unlike Kitty, who actually meant well, in spite of her ignorance, Lydia was mean and spiteful too. She'd been driving Lizzy up the wall by constantly asking if everything was alright with her with fake sympathy and then loudly exclaiming that, "Of course you are unwell! You will be heading to Bedlam in a few weeks, after all."

What irritated Lizzy more than the youngest Bennet's behaviour was her parent's attitude towards it. Mama did nothing to stop Lydia and doted upon her as if she was a three-year-old kid. Papa rarely ever left his study, even when Lydia and Kitty were at their most obnoxious and seemed uncaring of all of his children, except Elizabeth. And his affection for Elizabeth too was because of the fact that she took an avid interest in his books. Otherwise, Lizzy could bet ten bucks that he'd have dismissed her to be a silly _female_ just like he did for the rest. Sometimes, this world's men's blatant disregard for the opposite gender disgusted her.

"No," Lydia answered, stubbornness resonating within that one syllable. Barging past Jane roughly, she made her way towards the dresser, where Lizzy sat. Without even _asking,_ Lydia began rummaging through _their_ drawers.

Lizzy's temper was _this_ close to snapping. "Lydia. You heard Jane. I shall be the one wearing the necklace today. Respect her words." Her voice was deadly calm, just an indication of how much she was struggling to reign her anger in.

"I don't see any reason why _I_ shouldn't be wearing it. After all, I'm the youngest, and the prettiest, saving Jane." She looked over her shoulder and sneered at Lizzy. "They'll certainly suit my features better than _your_ plain ones."

Lizzy could feel her temper boiling over. Was it alright to chastise such a spoilt brat in this stupid 'polite society'? She certainly hoped so. If it wasn't proper, Lizzy didn't care. Lydia deserved a good hard slap, not a scolding, so Lizzy felt quite generous when she uttered her next words. " _Lydia,_ stop acting like a spoilt brat! You are not entitled to receive everything you desire, nor are you allowed to speak your mind on everything. We are your elder sisters, so don't you think that we deserve your respect occasionally? You have been coddled, spoiled and indulged far too much. Being the _youngest_ and the _prettiest_ does not warrant an automatic right over everything you want." Lizzy took a deep breath. "Keep that necklace in its place and leave." Lydia opened her mouth to protest, an indignant expression on her face. " _Now!"_

Lydia gaped at her elder sister, before slowly placing the necklace on the dresser and scurrying out of the room. Lizzy was sure she could hear a small sob as she left, but her regret was minimal. She only hoped that the silly girl would come to her senses after this.

She collapsed onto the tiny stool before the dresser. Great. Not only was she in a different century, with five sisters, but also was acting the part of a stern babysitter. _Just_ what she wanted.

"Lizzy?" Jane's voice was merely a whisper and she stiffened. _Oh dear…_ How could she have forgotten Jane? What must she think of her now? Old Lizzy surely must have been much more restrained than this.

She sighed deeply, rubbing her forehead. "I am sorry for speaking so harshly, Jane,"— no, actually, she wasn't — "But Lydia needed to realise her errors. Perhaps I could have dealt with it better… But—but I just lost my temper." Jane's blue eyes showed confusion, concern and was that… fear? No, Lizzy was imagining things. "You—you don't hate me for what I did, do you?"

"No, no, of course not, Lizzy," Jane hastened to reassure her. The blonde bit her lips frown on her face. "Lydia… has not been taught well and she definitely needed to be chastised. You weren't particularly harsh either." Jane took a fortifying breath. "No, Lizzy, you were correct. You handled the situation perfectly. Something has… changed, Lizzy. You are different, more courageous." Lizzy gulped. "However, I am not disappointed. I am proud of you, Elizabeth." Jane smiled at her.

Lizzy blinked once, processing Jane's words. She was _proud_ of her. How long had it been since Lizzy had heard someone utter those words to her? She felt happiness swelling within her.

In the past two days, Jane had shown how deeply her and Lizzy's bond ran. She could _feel_ it, even though she was somewhat detached from her affection. Jane was calm, serene, but still resilient, firm and courageous. Most people disregarded that aspect since it was only around Lizzy that she spoke freely, and unleashed her mild, yet enjoyable humour. Jane and Lizzy spent more than half of their days together, and while Jane was still hesitant around her, there was no doubt that she was loved by her elder sister.

And today, Lizzy could say that she wholeheartedly returned her affection.

Elizabeth beamed at her sister of two days. For the first time since she woke up in 1811, Lizzy felt… _accepted._

"Come, now. You must assist me with my hair. You know I'm rather hopeless at the art, while your beautifully arranged hair shows that you excel at it. What do you think will look best with my outfit—more specifically with the pearls? They are hard won, so I _must_ look my best to ensure that my victory is not in vain." Lizzy smiled mischievously as she turned to face the mirror and Jane's gentle fingers threaded through her locks, her gentle reprimand lost amidst laughter.

* * *

Three words to describe the assembly: stuffy, uncomfortable and _terrifying._

Why was it terrifying, you ask?

Because Lizzy had _no_ idea how to dance.

When she first entered the hall, she was brimming with confidence and hope. She had felt closer to Jane, Lydia had shut her mouth and Mrs Bennet seemed to be too engrossed in consoling her baby to scold Lizzy all that much. All in one evening. If she could achieve that, how bad would an assembly be?

Of course, fate was out to ridicule her, wasn't it?

When the dancing had started, Mr George Lucas—the Lucases' eldest son, a pleasant lad—had asked for her hand to 'dance the next set'.

That's when the panic had set in.

 _Oh well,_ Lizzy had thought. _Won't be too bad, will it? After all, it's technically only been three months since those ballroom dancing classes for Janie's wedding. And if I can retain Old-Lizzy's etiquette, surely, the same applies to dancing._

Guess what? Dancing was a total and utter disaster.

She messed up the hand movements first, giving her left hand when she was supposed to give her right and then the complicated leg movements—what was _that_ all about. She'd surreptitiously tried to follow Jane's dancing in an effort to perform the proper steps. Nope, hadn't worked. So when they reached the middle of the set (with poor Mr Lucas looking bewildered at her apparent inability to dance), she decided that bowing out of dancing for the evening was the only option.

She didn't even have to _try_ to stop dancing, it happened all on its own. When Jane's partner extended his hand to exchange positions with her, she promptly tripped and fell over his feet… flat on her face.

All she could think as she lay with her cheek against the cold wood was, _Where are the YouTube tutorials when you need them?_

Jane immediately cried out and helped Lizzy to her feet, along with George Lucas. She asked whether Lizzy was alright—of _course,_ she wasn't! She'd fallen so embarrassingly, did she _expect_ her to be alright?

Lizzy nodded and smiled. "Yes, I'm fine." _Yeah, no._ "I… just felt very faint."

"Oh, Lizzy! Your injury must be affecting you. I apologise for not paying attention. Come, sit." Jane, bless her soul, actually looked like she blamed herself for Lizzy's Most Embarrassing and Tragic Fall.

Lizzy fanned her cheeks to cool them, knowing that they were as red as cherries. She could feel everyone's eyes on her, judging her, pitying her. Blinking back the wetness in her eyes, she said, "Jane, it was no fault of yours. It was merely my own ignorance and negligence to take my medicine." Lizzy sighed, rubbing her slightly bruised cheek (and her _very_ bruised ego). "Do not distress yourself on my account. Your partner is waiting for you." Lizzy smiled at Jane and urged her to go back to the dance with the poor gentleman who looked very embarrassed to have been the cause of her fall.

George Lucas asked if she was well, and such slightly pushy questions, before excusing himself to bring them both some 'refreshments'. She was grateful that he left. At least _now_ she could mourn her fall from grace (both literal and figurative) without people fussing over her.

Hiding her head in her hands, she let a few tears escape. So much for positivity. Just showed that all this was happening just to ruin her life.

Suddenly, the chattering masses went quiet again and Lizzy looked up. Oh no. Had she done something wrong again? _No, no, please, no._

But fortunately, the sudden silence wasn't because of something Lizzy had done. No, it was because Mr Bingley and Co had pulled off a cinematic entrance and arrived fashionably late. Lizzy breathed a sigh of relief. Good. Now, most of the evening would be spent picking at the 'fresh meat', so to speak and her mishap would (hopefully) be ignored.

Mr Bingley, of course, was all smiles and courtesy and delight. He was the typical happy-go-lucky guy and predictably, the happy-go-lucky handsome guy goes for the most kindhearted beautiful woman. Meaning, Mr Bingley was staring at Jane and would probably ask her for a dance as soon as he got the chance to. _How precious._

Beside him was a redheaded woman who resembled him a lot, except for her expression which looked like she had a bad smell under her nose. _Snob,_ Lizzy dismissed her. Some stupid woman who thought too much of herself. Obviously a Miss Bingley… or maybe she was married. To Mr Darcy, maybe? She felt somewhat… _disappointed_ thinking that. But a pair of gossips quickly refuted her thoughts saying that Mr Darcy was single, rich and of course, _eligible_ for one of their vapid daughters maybe.

The last two of their party was obviously a married couple. The woman had red hair too, not quite as vibrant as her siblings' hair but recognisable all the same. The man reminded her of a sloth, lazy, slow and rather detached from everything.

The whispers picked up again, speculations of their wealth, clothes, blah blah blah. Why did _she_ care? All she needed to know was that her arrival had distracted everyone from the gossip building around her.

Of course, Mrs Bennet had to ruin it all.

"Lizzy! Oh, what were you _thinking,_ embarrassing us like that? Now, come, we must be introduced to the Bingleys! Pray, do try not to fall in that unladylike manner again!"

 _Sure, yell it a bit louder. I don't think the people in China heard it!_ Lizzy thought sarcastically. She stole a quick glance at the Bingley party to see if they'd noticed. If she had to judge by Miss Bingley's raised eyebrow, then yes, yes they had heard.

Lizzy wished that she could just sink into the floor, right then and there.

Mr Bennet asked her if she was better in a whispered voice and Lizzy gave him a weak smile in return. Nodding and chuckling a bit, Mr Bennet began, "Mr Bingley, Miss Bingley, Mr Darcy, may I introduce you to my wife and my eldest daughters—Miss Jane Bennet and Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

A flurry of curtsies and bows ensued before Mr Bingley blurted out, "I did have the pleasure of making Miss Elizabeth's acquaintance in the morrow. We—Darcy and I—happened upon her during our ride to Netherfield."

Elizabeth met Mr Bingley's smile with one of her own and turned to offer it to Mr Darcy, but he turned away with a disdainful expression on his face. _What was his problem?_

Lizzy tried to speak, but Mama beat her to it. "Oh yes! Lizzy does insist on taking walks across the countryside every morning. I tell her not to, but she never pays any heed to my words."

Lizzy blushed. Even _she_ knew that such speeches were unseemly in public. Hell, it wasn't done to talk badly about someone's family in public even in the 21st-century! Jane quickly diverted the conversation towards something mundane as Lizzy stared at her shoes.

"… I would be delighted if you would dance the next set with me, Miss Bennet. And perhaps, Miss Elizabeth might consent to dance the set after that with me?" Mr Bingley's kind and open expression made Lizzy wish that she _could_ accept.

She sighed. "Unfortunately, Mr Bingley, I suffered a… mishap earlier this evening, and thus, am obliged to sit through the dances. Please forgive me."

Miss Bingley expressed her (fake) concern for her health with a smirk hidden under her ostentatious fan, Mr Bingley (genuinely) hoped that she would recover soon and Mr Darcy remained as stoic and silent as ever.

Hoping that her duty was done, Lizzy took her leave and set off on her own, wandering aimlessly, hoping to find a familiar face. Jane, of course, had been swept up by Mr Bingley for a dance. They looked cute together. If Lizzy had been in her world, she would already be posting pictures of them with the caption 'OTP' or something sappy like that.

Finally, she found Mary, watching the proceedings with a forlorn expression. Feeling a pang of solidarity with the younger girl, Lizzy took the seat next to hers.

"Mary," she said. Her sister looked at her, nodded and looked away. Lizzy frowned. Didn't Mary use to talk to the Old Lizzy?

After a few minutes of silence, Mary said, "That was quite a fall. I do hope that you did not get injured further."

"No, thank you. I am well. I only regret that I cannot dance again."

"Are you sure you _could_ dance again?" Mary asked, looking at her shrewdly. Lizzy's heart stopped. "You did seem to be struggling with the steps. I noticed. In the past few days, Lizzie, you have been acting very strange."

Lizzy's heart beat fast. She could do two things—lie and pretend that it was all because she was feeling faint or lie and pretend that she was losing memories. Either way, she had to lie to Mary. Tell the truth? Ha, not a chance.

She had to make a decision.

Maybe… maybe Mary could help her. If she believed that she was losing knowledge and memories, she might offer to help.

Right?

"I… yes. I will not deny it, Mary. I could not remember the steps. How much ever I tried, I could not remember them." Mary seemed to be passive, not detecting that she was lying, so Lizzy continued. "And so many memories too…" She trailed off, not wanting to deceive Mary too much.

 _Call my bluff, call my bluff, please do._

"I have heard of such conditions. It can be caused due to an injury to your head. It is called amnesia by the doctors, I believe. Mr Shaw—the apothecary informed me that one of the tenant children suffers from it after he fell from a horse." Mary was perceptive. And resourceful. Why hadn't Lizzy noticed that before?

They remained silent, for a while, watching the dancers laugh and twirl and keep time to the music. Lizzy's eyes found Jane, flushed with pleasure and exertion, being admired by her partner, who looked as if he'd seen an angel from heaven. _So cute, really._

"I can help you… if you would like that." Mary's voice was small, barely audible over the loud music.

Lizzy looked at her hopefully, waiting for her to continue. Mary took a deep breath. "I do not enjoy dancing, not particularly. However, I do have the technical proficiency to teach you. I can help you remember… all that you have forgotten. I can help you," she repeated.

Lizzy beamed at Mary and she blinked. "Thank you! I'd love… I mean… I would like that." Mary offered her a small, shy smile in return.

"Alright, then."

A few more minutes of silence, but this time, it was rather peaceful and relieved. Suddenly a thought came to her mind. "Mary? Did I play the piano?"

Mary looked incredulous and then shook her head. "Lord, you really _have_ lost your memories." She chuckled. "You have a _lot_ to learn, Elizabeth Bennet."

Lizzy groaned and leaned back in her chair.

Yep, fate was _definitely_ cackling at her.

* * *

 **Yay! I love some Lizzy and Mary sister moments. To be honest, I always felt that Mary was a great character who is neglected. So I decided to give a more significant role for her. Also, the whole 'Assembly insult' moment happens in the next chapter, so don't be disappointed. The chapter seemed too long, so I cut it short at this scene. :)**

 **I have edited the previous chapter. It's not something very important that might change the plot, but I have added more length to Lizzy's encounter with Bingley and Darcy. You can check it out if you'd like.**

 **Also, if you didn't notice, I kind of hate Lydia. The reason I wrote the scene where Lizzy puts that girl in her place is because Lizzy has been accustomed to speaking her mind, what with our world being freer, more feminist and whatnot. Also, this is a reflection of a stronger, more experience character that Lizzy possesses. Remember, she was already 25 when she travelled through time. Those extra five years of age give plenty of experience, cynicism and perception skills to Lizzy.**

 **Please review and tell me what you think of the story! Thank you to all those who have favourited, followed and reviewed this story, you are all so amazing!**

 _ **Review Responses:**_

 **Guest - (First review for chap 4) No, it's most definitely not her boss. Her boss is more like the reincarnation of Lady Catherine. :P You can say it was a modern Wickham, yes. You just have to keep reading to find out. ;) I'm so glad that you find the story fascinating! Thank you!**

 **Lizzie - Thank you! :D Lizzy was bound to be awkward with her surroundings. Just think about it, strong independent millennial woman in the 19th century? Well, that spells awkward in capital letters. Her intelligence will definitely surprise everyone and cut them dead. (The Lizzy/Caroline interactions. *rubs hands gleefully*) I hope this update is soon enough! :D**

 **\- Lynn**


	6. Chapter Five

**_Chapter Five_**

 _16 October, 1811_

The assembly seemed to go on forever, at least for Lizzy. She became excessively bored as the evening went by, the melodies from the orchestra grating on her nerves and the endless chatter giving her a raging headache. Mary seemed to be in a similar state, but unlike Lizzy, who was itching to get away, she was bearing everything with good grace.

Eventually, Mary excused herself to restrain Kitty and Lydia from making idiots of themselves. They were currently with the Bingley siblings, flirting outrageously with Mr Bingley (who looked blissfully oblivious) and sharing vulgar gossip with Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst, who looked like they'd rather be anywhere but next to those two. Nope, Lizzy's scolding earlier in the evening had not affected Lydia in any way.

Lizzy sighed as Mary swept away in a flurry of sensible fabrics and irritation. Her eyes darted across the crowd, hoping to find a friendly face. Finally, she spotted Charlotte, laughing with her younger sister. Should she go? What if she slipped up again? Charlotte already seemed to be suspicious that something wasn't quite right. Making another mistake, or going blank on memories again could prove to be a disaster.

Taking a deep breath, Lizzy wound around the dancers and approached Charlotte.

"Are you not dancing this set?" Lizzy asked, by way of striking up a conversation.

"I am not, as you can very well see. What surprises me is that _you_ are doing the same. I thought that you might have recovered from your fall, Eliza. Or are you simply too afraid of embarrassing yourself again?" Something about Charlotte's teasing tone helped Lizzy relax as she leaned on the pillar facing the petite woman.

"I fear that I'll break my leg if I dance anymore—if you really do want to know the reason," Lizzy countered drily, half-relieved that Charlotte wasn't treating her strangely due to the events of the stupid tea-party they had yesterday. "I saw that you danced with Mr Bingley. Does he seem to be a good person?" She was eager to collect information on the man that Jane was so enamoured with, to make sure that he wouldn't break her heart.

If Old Jane was anything like Millenial Jane, she had a gullible kind heart which would be heartlessly used by stupid arrogant men before being dumped like yesterday's trash. It was sad, but it was true. Lizzy couldn't remember the number of times she'd warned Jane against going on a date with some man or the other, and then watching Jane come home crying a few weeks later. Jane never did have much luck with romance until Tom, her husband.

Then again, it wasn't as if _Lizzy's_ love life was any better.

She was shaken out of her thoughts by Charlotte, who was trying to make her look at something—or rather some _one._ Mr Darcy had, apparently, decided that seeking refuge in the shadows was a great idea and was currently hiding a few feet away from Lizzy and Charlotte. The previous question forgotten, Lizzy and Charlotte covered their mouths to stifle their giggles. Mr Darcy did look funny, his tall frame stuffed into the small alcove, an uncomfortable look on his face. Lizzy was truly amused, but not surprised, that he would go to such great lengths to avoid Meryton's society. He _did_ look like a snob and wasn't ready to mingle with anyone. Besides, Mary had informed her that he had a great fortune (ten thousand pounds per annum, _still_ less than her average annual income) and was 'the grandson of an Earl' which probably made him think that he was practically royalty. No wonder he looked so disdainful. Snob.

Eventually, Mr Bingley made his way over to his friend, trying to persuade him to dance. Mr Darcy remained grumpy, a great contrast to his lively friend, who seemed delighted with everyone and everything.

"Come, Darcy," Mr Bingley urged. "I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better dance."

Lizzy almost snickered, thinking that _stupid_ didn't quite cover Mr Darcy's manners. _Rude_ and _arrogant_ were much better.

Mr Darcy seemed almost horrified at his friend's request, proclaiming that he _detested_ dancing and because Mr Bingley's sisters were already engaged for the set, he said that 'there is not another woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up with.'

Lizzy and Charlotte exchanged a look at this. Um, arrogant much?

Mr Bingley's reply reflected their disbelief at Mr Darcy's attitude. His declaration that he hadn't met so many pretty girls brought a small smile to Lizzy's face. His penchant for hyperbolism and exuberance combined with his seeming kind-heartedness would be a perfect complement to Jane's own character.

Mr Darcy showed that he wasn't _quite_ as bad as he liked others to believe by implying that Jane was the most beautiful woman in the masses. _Well,_ thought Lizzy with a snort, _at least he isn't blind._

Mr Bingley followed with effusions about Jane being 'the most beautiful creature'. Lizzy rolled her eyes, beginning to feel a tad bit uncomfortable about her and Charlotte (inconspicuously) eavesdropping on their conversation. She'd just turned away from the gentlemen when Mr Bingley suggested that his friend dance with _her._ Despite her fall. But Mr Bingley probably didn't know that.

 _Please refuse, please be the snob you've been throughout the evening and refuse._

"She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt _me._ I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who, apparently, have embarrassed themselves before the entire assembly."

 _Well,_ that _was one way to refuse a dance._

The first thing that ran through Lizzy's mind was relief.

Then, Charlotte turned to face her with wide, somewhat sympathetic eyes and Lizzy comprehended the meaning behind Mr Darcy's words.

The second thing which ran through Elizabeth's mind was the intense desire to punch Mr Darcy and kick his pompous arse.

 _Not handsome enough to tempt him._ Like she actually _wanted_ anything to do with him. Honestly, had she shown the slightest bit of interest in that prat? And even if she did, was it even _polite_ and _gentlemanly_ to insult her that way?

Lizzy had endured many comments, but none had infuriated her as much as this one.

Perhaps because he was kind of right.

Sort of.

Lizzy clenched her fist, digging her fingernails into her palm. _One, Two, Three, take a deep breath. Remember what Dr Karen said. Anxiety and anger aren't good for you._

Two minutes later, she smiled at Charlotte with clenched teeth, trying hard to ignore the obnoxious prat who had tried to insult her.

"Well," Lizzy said, the word ground out since her teeth were still clenched in annoyance. "What of Charles Bingley? What is your opinion of him?"

* * *

Mrs Bennet, surprisingly, took Mr Darcy's insult much worse than Lizzy.

"Well, it was simply an unfortunate accident that happened to Lizzy in the first set! Oh, Mr Bennet! He was so disagreeable, insulting our Lizzy so!" She raved and ranted and raged for what seemed like hours, but Papa seemed unperturbed.

Finally, Mama's indignation cooled. With one last rant, she added to Mr Bennet, "I wish you had been there, my dear, to have given him one of your set-downs. I quite detest the man."

Mr Bennet looked at Lizzy, amused and a little concerned, perhaps. Mama swept out of the parlour, calling Hill to assist her. Sighing as she went, Papa said, "Well, well, if I had known that the arrival of the young gentlemen would cause such anxiety to Mrs Bennet's poor nerves, I never would have called upon them in the first place!" Lizzy laughed, remembering Mrs Bennet's frequent exclamations about her fancied fits of 'nerves'.

Bidding good-night to Mr Bennet, who barely nodded without looking up from his book, Lizzy quickly made her way up the stairs, smiling as she went so.

It felt nice to be defended again. Mom had never been the type to care about any insults acquired by her daughters—mainly because Jane was too beautiful and Lizzy too sharp-tongued for anyone to ever dare insult them. Dad had been too ill to even venture out for social niceties.

But here, in a different world, with a different family, when she was faced with some arrogant insult, Mama had come to her defence—even if she seemed to like Lizzy the least out of all her daughters. Even Jane seemed to be mildly indignant, commenting that Mr Darcy must not have looked at her properly to comment so.

It was a nice change, having people care about her and _show_ it.

Lizzy, despite all that had happened that evening, felt quite content with herself.

* * *

"Well, he certainly seems to be amiable and handsome, Jane." Lizzy giggled as Jane threw a pillow her way. "I give you leave to like him. I daresay you've liked many a stupider person," said Lizzy, a bit nervously, because she was basing her speech on the Millennial Jane. Maybe it was a stupid assumption to make but Lizzy hoped it would pay off.

"Dear Lizzy!" Jane exclaimed. Lizzy winked at her sister, laughing mostly out of relief. She was right then. There _were_ some aspects the two Janes shared.

"Oh! You are pre-disposed to like people in general, you know. You never see a fault in anybody. All the world is good and agreeable in your eyes. I daresay I've never heard you speak ill of a human being in your life."

 _This,_ however, was observations she'd made over the three days she'd known Jane. She'd always quelled her family's more cynical thoughts with her never-ending optimism. It should've sickened Lizzy, but she figured that the world could use a little optimism and had kept quiet.

They continued to talk about Jane's angelic character, Lizzy half-teasingly until they arrived on the subject of the Bingley sisters. Lizzy wrinkled her nose with disgust thinking of the sisters who looked more like overdressed birds than 'genteel ladies' like Jane believed them to be. _Sh_ e liked them a whole lot better—a clear indication of the difference between the characters of Lizzy and Jane.

"Oh, Jane, why do you not accept that our dispositions simply do not let us agree on the matter of Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst? _You_ view them for all the good they have to offer, while _I_ see them for what they truly are." Lizzy laughed, putting an end to the conversation.

Jane smiled faintly, but there was a troubled look in her eyes. "Do you feel better, Lizzy?"

Lizzy's laugh died down and she offered a wry smile to her elder sister. "Yes. I am as well as I can be on the evening that I suffered an unfortunate mishap and an insult at the hands of a pompous gentleman. My pride is wounded, to be sure, but otherwise, I am quite good."

"Oh, Lizzy, do not take Mr Darcy's words to heart. He-he might have been under some burden to speak so. Perhaps something was troubling him? Whatever his reason, there is no reason to trouble yourself over his words." Jane paused, studying her sister's face carefully. "Nor do you have to conclude his character over one insult."

Ah, Jane. Even in a different world, she knew Lizzy well. Jane was quite perceptive too—proving that she wasn't all beauty and kindness as she depicted herself to be.

"Do not worry about me, Janie. I shall be well." Lizzy grinned, settling into the comfortable duvets. "Good night, Jane. Do try not to dream of Mr Bingley too much."

There was a scandalised exclamation of _Lizzy!_ from Jane's side and a few chuckles. There was silence, for the next few minutes, a peaceful silence—one that said that the two sisters were greatly comfortable in each other's presence.

As Lizzy was lulled to sleep by the steady rhythm of the leaves rustling outside their room, she barely made out Jane's words.

"You have changed, Lizzy, but I cannot bring myself to dislike you for it. You still are _my_ Lizzy, despite what the others might say."

* * *

 **I am so sorry for the delay in posting this chapter! I was down with a nasty cold, so I was basically incapacitated and lying in bed feeling sorry for myself. :P**

 **The words borrowed from Jane Austen are from pages 15-21, chapters 3 and 4, _Pride and Prejudice_ (Kindle edition). They belong to her and no copyright infringement is intended.**

 **Thank you for so many reviews! It really snapped me out of my pitiful state and fuelled me to edit this chapter. It's a bit shorter than I intended, but the next scene, which was a Mary-Elizabeth scene didn't quite fit in here with the other scenes so I just moved it to the next chapter. I have almost finished with writing the whole story, and it's about 45 chapters in length.**

 **I hope the first 'Darcy insult' (as I like to call it) and Lizzy's reaction to it are adequate. Mind you, in this version, Lizzy will be more vocal about it than in canon. I also liked Lizzy feeling 'cared-for' by her mother, since she _was_ indignant on Lizzy's behalf, even in canon. Most people seem to forget that, but I like to believe that in her heart of hearts, Mrs Bennet held Lizzy in equal regard as Jane or Lydia. Or am I being too optimistic, like Jane? :D**

 **I tweaked around Austen's brilliant dialogue to fit my purpose. I hope you don't mind!**

 **Since all the reviews I received were from ffn users, I'll answer them through PM! Thank you to all those who have shown overwhelming support to this story- by reading, reviewing, following and favouriting! Really means a lot to me! :)**

 **\- Lynn**


	7. Author's Note

THIS IS NOT A CHAPTER

Hello everyone!

Gosh, it's been so long since I opened this account. I'm truly sorry for not updating _A Twist In Time._ A lot of things came up in my life and I was too caught up dealing with family problems and job changes to really sit down and write.

My daughter has been fighting cancer since May last year. Thankfully, we detected it in an early stage and she is in remission since December. I've been in a constant state of worry and I changed my job in winter, which definitely did not help my mental health.

However, I'm in a better place now and I'll start writing asap. Thank you so much for all the follows, favourites and reviews despite my absence.

Love,

Lynn


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